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Why is it that the person who insists on playing their music out loud on public transport always has the worst taste? I don't need a live performance of "Bad Recorder Renditions of Top 40 Hits" during my morning commute, thank you very much.
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Public transport turns ordinary people into time travelers. You enter the bus in the 21st century, but by the time you reach your destination, you've aged at least a decade. It's the magical realm where minutes feel like hours, and the journey is a test of your patience and sanity.
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Have you ever noticed that public transport is like a social experiment on wheels? You're crammed into a metal tube with a bunch of strangers, and suddenly you become an expert in personal space negotiation. It's like, "Excuse me, sir, your elbow is currently occupying my left lung. Can we negotiate a peace treaty here?
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Why is it that the air conditioning on public transport is either set to Arctic Tundra or Desert Mirage? There's no in-between. You're either freezing like a popsicle or sweating like a contestant on a spicy food eating competition.
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Public transport is the only place where the phrase "mind the gap" takes on a whole new level of urgency. It's not just a reminder; it's a survival instinct. You start wondering if you missed a memo on the secret Olympic sport of long-jump commuting.
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Public transport announcements always sound so optimistic, like they're narrating a documentary about a tropical paradise. "Next stop, Paradise Station. Please exit to your left and watch out for coconuts." Spoiler alert: It's just the office.
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Have you noticed that people on public transport suddenly become experts on everyone else's business? It's like the unwritten rule is to read your neighbor's newspaper over their shoulder and offer unsolicited life advice. "I see you're into Sudoku. Let me tell you the secrets of a well-balanced life.
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You know you've been taking public transport too long when you develop a sixth sense for finding the one seat that's slightly less uncomfortable than the others. It's like playing a game of musical chairs where all the chairs hate you.
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Public transport is the only place where people transform into contortionists. Trying to gracefully extract yourself from a window seat without doing a full-body yoga move is an art form. I call it "bus ballet.
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